


7 Minutes

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles Modern [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 21:12:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16751611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: One closet, two people, endless possibilities.





	7 Minutes

**7 Minutes**

**-**

Every now and then, there would be a bang on the door. Sometimes whistling or smooching noises. And laughter– lots and lots of laughter. 

They sat on opposite sides of the tight closet, having to hold their knees to their chests so that the tips of their shoes didn’t touch. Despite the ruckus of the party beyond the door, their quiet breaths and nervous swallows were far too easy to hear. His mouth tasted like beer, and the white of her blouse against her blonde curls had made her look like something you’d find in a stained glass window. 

That would make sense, he supposed, if it was supposed to be Seven Minutes in  _H_ _eaven_. 

“How long has it been?” Astrid asked, and he heard her shift. 

Hiccup mashed the glow button on his watch. “Three minutes,” he answered, barely catching a glimpse of her face illuminated by the pale blue light. A long moment of silence that couldn’t possibly be less than an hour stretched between them. And then he cleared his throat to say, “You wouldn’t want to… kiss?" 

She said nothing.

"Would you?" 

Their friendship had barely brushed the boundaries of flirtation, so somehow the bottle that had spun and landed on Astrid must have been fixed. There was no way the universe was that kind, that cruel. No way guys like  _him_  just got shoved into closets with girls like  _her._

"That’s what they want,” she finally told him under her breath. “If we kiss, then they win." 

He could smell whatever body spray or shampoo or deodorant she wore in that tiny space. Spicy, with sweeter notes of something like vanilla or caramel. The part of him that so often distracted his sixteen year-old brain wanted to crawl over and bury his nose in her neck. And her hair. He wanted to slide it through his fingers.

"Still,” she began a little louder, and Hiccup’s head snapped up. “I would.”

His heart began a frantic tattoo against his chest, only pounding harder when her shadows twisted and moved. He couldn’t be sure at first what she was doing, but then her palm was on his knee, gently parting his legs. Then it was very clear that she was settling between them.

Trembling hands rested on his neck, and Hiccup was thankful for the dark that concealed his blush. And  _other_  parts of him, which were quickly becoming excited by the thought of her between his thighs. The light seeping from beneath the door made it easier to make out her face, now that she was closer. He could tell that her eyes were lowered shyly, even though he couldn’t make out the colors of them. And that incredible scent was even stronger with her near.

Her nose brushed clumsily against his. His breath hitched as his hand strayed to find her lower back. Between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans, there was a warm strip of skin where his pinky happily wandered. Then her forehead was resting against his, and he knew that if he tilted his jaw upwards just an inch, his mouth would be pressed against hers. Her exhale was sharp and nervous.

 _Bang bang banging_  on the door. 

Astrid startled and went to pull away, but the hand on her back tightened. Hiccup’s brow furrowed out of fear that he might never get this chance again, might never have her so close. His free hand fumbled to her wrists, holding her palms to his neck. She stopped moving. Let him be the one to pull her close.

Their parted lips hovered so close that the rise and fall of their heavy breathing created tiny bites of friction. He tilted, and she dodged. She chased, and he scraped his jaw against hers. Her uneven sigh made him wonder if he should’ve shaved his scruff. Maybe he would have, had he known he’d have Astrid nestled between his legs. Adrenaline roared in waves through his tense muscles. His pinky searched beneath her blouse’s edge.

“How much longer?” she whispered, her voice sounding tight.

He shook his head– her fingers slid higher and tangled in his hair. “I don’t know,” he panted, resisting the urge to crush her to him when she nuzzled her cheek against his. “A minute or two at most.”

“Do you think we can make it?” she wondered. Her face turned ever so slightly, and her bangs tickled his brow. 

Hiccup shook his head again. “No.” And then his lips stumbled onto hers, accepting her little gasp between his teeth as he claimed her mouth for his own.

That was when he realized there was no real way to  _lose_  at Seven Minutes in Heaven.


End file.
